


Drastic Measures

by atrata



Series: 30 kisses [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-25
Updated: 2005-04-25
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atrata/pseuds/atrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape gets distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drastic Measures

**Author's Note:**

> Written for theme #1 (Look over here!) over at [](http://30-kisses.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://30-kisses.livejournal.com/)**30_kisses**.

*

Harry swore under his breath. It wasn't working. Hermione had dumped loads of dragon toenails into her potion, and it was bubbling and gurgling and emitting ominous purple clouds, and Snape wasn't looking. He was staring hard at Ron, his lip curled. They were running out of time.

Hermione shot Harry a panicked look and motioned frantically with her hands. It was the 'do something NOW' look. Harry swore a little louder and climbed up on his desk, heart pounding. Everyone looked at him—except Snape. Malfoy elbowed Crabbe and opened his mouth to say something, and Harry knew he couldn't let that happen. Malfoy was right behind Ron, and Snape needed to turn around.

"Snape!" Harry heard someone yelling out Snape's name, and was a bit surprised to realize it was him.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape said, still staring at Ron, "perhaps you'd care to inform the resident celebrity that if he wishes to speak to me, he ought to address me with a bit of respect."

He looked at Hermione. She grimaced, but waved her hand again. Clearly it was time for drastic measures. "Oi, Snape! Look over here!"

Harry turned his back, bent over, and raised his robes. The cool dungeon air rushed over his bare bum, and there was a drawn-out moment of utter silence and horror before the room was filled with the deafening roar of his classmates' reactions. The blood was pounding through his head, filling his ears, and Harry couldn't hear much of anything.

And then he heard, "Everyone out."

Snape's voice was deathly quiet, but it somehow carried over all the noise. Harry seemed frozen, stuck to the desk with his robes over his head. It was unthinkable. It was horrifying. Snape was going to murder him slowly and there was going to be pain and blood and screaming and _why_ couldn't he—

"So."

Somehow the room had cleared while Harry wasn't paying attention, and he was alone with Snape. With his robes over his head. If Ron hadn't got the ingredients they needed, Harry was going to murder him. There would be pain and blood and screaming.

"Mr. Potter, have you a _reason_ to be standing bare-arsed on your desk?"

"Er." He somehow didn't think it would be wise to tell the truth. There was only one way out of this: drastic measures. "Yes, sir."

"Oh? Let me guess. After years of breaking rules and causing trouble, you have suddenly developed a guilty conscience and a healthy respect for corporal punishment." He sighed. "Very well. Switch or paddle?"

"What?!" Alarmed, Harry stood up and whirled to face Snape. Unfortunately, he'd been upside-down for so long that all the blood rushed from his head and he went crashing to the floor. Or he would have crashed into the floor if Snape hadn't caught him.

He found himself off-balance, pulled hard against Snape's body. He risked a look at Snape's face and exhaled sharply; however mild Snape's tone had been, it was clear he was furious. Harry, from his vantage point of exactly zero millimeters away, could feel the tremors running through Snape's muscles as the man fought not to just rend him limb from limb.

Snape glared down at him, his fingers digging painfully into Harry's shoulder, and bared his teeth. Harry watched the thin lips draw back, took a deep breath, and kissed him.

Snape's lips were surprisingly soft. Not that he'd thought about it, of course, but if he had, he'd likely have thought they'd be hard. Possibly made of sandpaper. But they were soft and cool and not at all wet or gross and really this was—and then he was flying across the room.

His back crashed into the wall and he slumped to the floor. Dazed, he looked up in time to see Snape stalking closer. His face was splotchy, and he was clearly approaching Shrieking Shack-levels of anger. He kept opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to scream but couldn't quite figure out what to say. Perhaps, Harry thought, his measures needn't have been quite so drastic. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

"Er, right," Harry said, scrambling backwards as Snape came to within striking distance. "I'll just—I'll go."

Snape reached down and grabbed a handful of Harry's robes, yanking him to his feet. "If you ever—"

Harry shook his head frantically. "I won't!"

Snape's other hand twisted in his robes and pulled him closer. "I—"

Harry knew his life hung in the balance, and the entire world seemed to slow down accordingly. Snape's eyes burned into his, and he could almost see the blood rushing through Snape's body, veins bulging under thin skin. Harry held his breath, not daring to move or breathe. After what seemed an eternity, Snape finally moved, pulling Harry closer and then shoving him away the next instant.

"Out," he ordered.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He bolted to the door so fast he slammed into two desks. He was sure that any second, Snape was going to change his mind about letting him live. He hadn't even remembered to take—

"Oh, and Potter?"

Harry jerked to a halt halfway through the door and looked over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"

"That'll be one hundred points from Gryffindor."

 

**FIN.**


End file.
